Breathe You In

by Joya Ryan

  “No thanks. I don’t want to ruin this moment when we’re actually getting along.”

  “Hey.” With my hand still intertwined with his, he reached for my side and pinched. I gasped with a short laugh. “If memory serves, we get along quite well.”

  Even the crisp fall breeze couldn’t combat the heat that rushed to my cheeks.

  “I have to admit though, I have an agenda,” he said.

  “Of course you do,” I replied, taking another sip.

  We came to a bench and he sat me down. The wood was cold but thankfully not overly damp. Roman took the spot next to me.

  “As you know, we’re traveling upstate next week,” he started. “There will be a couple stops, one of which will be my parents’ estate.”

  I nodded, remembering Roman’s secretary saying something about this a couple of weeks ago.

  “We won’t be staying there,” he said quickly, as though the thought made him sick inside. “But I should stop by. And I was hoping you’d come with me.”

  My brows shot up. “To meet your parents?”

  “Isn’t that what couples do?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  I was shocked. Mostly because it would be so easy for me not to meet them. I could go to the hotel and not even have to set foot on their property. But Roman was making an effort. Choosing to bring me, to share a part of himself with me. Like we were an honest to God couple, in every way.

  “You sure that’s what you want?” I didn’t know how else to ask this. I couldn’t say what I was really thinking, which was, “Hey, remember how this is supposed to be ‘fake’ until you win the election? So there’s no real need for me to get too close, meet your family, and drag this thing out with complications.” But of course, I couldn’t say that.

  His words from earlier hit me hard.

  You matter…

  Something was pulsing in the sore spot in my chest. It was the spot that been hollowed out when Lauren had died. The same spot that had been through a rollercoaster of emotions since I’d met Roman. But this time, the ache was different. This ache had a happy lining around it.

  I mattered to someone.

  Mattered to him.

  He ran his fingers along my cheekbone. “I typically don’t do things I’m not sure about.”

  I wanted to scoff—because boy, was that the truth—but something in his gaze, in his touch, seemed almost worried. Dear lord! Was the governor holding his breath?

  “I’d love to go with you and meet them,” I said.

  A steady exhale came from that impressive chest. “Thank you. But don’t get too excited. You may not feel the same once you meet them.”

  Something dark flashed across his face.

  “You want to talk about it?” I asked.

  He shook his head and brushed his lips over mine.

  “No. Not when we’re getting along so well.”

  With that, he consumed me in one intense kiss, and like every other time, I was lost in the power of Roman Reese, the only person in the world who seemed to want me.

  “I have one more request,” he said against my lips.

  I tried to reply with, “Anything,” but it came out more as a moan.

  “Will you stay the night with me tonight?” he asked. He looked a little nervous waiting for my answer, and it made me want to kiss him all over again.

  I wrapped my arms around him. “Yes.”

  He smiled and kissed me, like a real man might kiss his real woman.

  I splashed some water on my face and looked in the mirror. It had been a good day, and Roman was waiting for me on the other side of the door. I looked around his master bathroom and wished I fit in a little better. My worn jeans and simple top were so plain against the marble counters and glossy fixtures. Still, he’d invited me. He wanted me here. I just had to keep reminding myself that.

  Pulling off my clothes, I tugged the T-shirt I’d borrowed from Roman over my head. It hit mid-thigh and was as appropriate as anything for sleepwear.

  All day he’d stolen kisses and touches, but now, it felt like something was changing. Like we were on the brink of a shift in our relationship, an important one. We had spent the day together, like a real couple, which was nice since we were in the homestretch of the campaign. It was one of his few days home before he would pick up traveling the state again. We were nearing the finish line.

  Unbraiding my hair, I ran my fingers through it and opened the door. All thought, reason, and breath left me when I saw Roman standing by the bed, wearing gray pajama bottoms and a white shirt like mine.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  The thin cotton pants hugged his butt so perfectly, it made my mouth water. It’d be so easy to peel them down and off in two seconds flat. I could see the contours of his back muscles against the tight fabric of the shirt. He looked so casual. So sexy and…just…wow.

  He turned and faced me. “See something you like?”

  “Just admiring how your shirt fits you.” I could almost see his chiseled stomach muscles through the fabric, which was pulled taut across his chest.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” he said, and walked toward me.

  His gaze swept me from head to toe, taking in everything, leaving me feeling exposed and hot. Needy. Ready. Was this how normal people in normal relationships felt? Did just the simple act of getting ready for bed feel like more? Like you were where you belonged?

  “You look better in my clothes than I do,” he said, cupping my hips.

  My hands fisted the material covering his chest as he leaned in and kissed me. I craved that touch. The tiny moment right before our lips met was packed with so much anticipation, it could last two lifetimes. Because I knew what would follow once our skin touched. Warmth. Connection.

  I lifted to my tiptoes for more, but he stepped back. He didn’t look mad, just unsure. The last several weeks had been filled with ups and downs, emotional highs and lows. Every time we were together, he either pulled back or surged forward. There was no steady pace, only extremes. Maybe it was time to slow down a little. To enjoy each other a bit more.

  I didn’t know what Roman hid or carried with him. Didn’t know his past, or why there was always a faint, dark cloud that seemed to hover over him. But I felt it in his movements, his actions. It was in the way he tried to control his world.

  Tonight, I wanted it to be just us. Stripped of everything except each other. I wanted to know him, feel him. I just prayed he’d let me.

  I said the only thing I could think of. “I’ve never seen you naked.”

  He smirked. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

  I nodded and went for a casual smile. “Hardly seems fair.” I stepped toward him. “I don’t pretend to know everything about you, but I do know that it’s hard for you to let go completely. To give up control and get lost in a moment.”

  “I don’t care for surprises,” he said, his eyes going vacant for a moment.

  His words were so raw, it was as if someone else were speaking. That voice came from a deep, dark place. I opened my mouth to ask about it, but he shook his head, as if dislodging something from his mind.

  “And in the past, we’ve been a bit too preoccupied with other things to fully undress.”

  “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to,” I whispered. “No surprises tonight. Just us.”

  “Good.”

  “I just…” I gently tugged on his shirt, “I like it when our skin touches.”

  Something wild and black burned in his eyes and I thought, This must be what the rim of a volcano looks like. Hot, on the brink of smoldering out of control.

  “So do I,” he said.

  He gently ran a lock of my hair through his fingers. His brows sliced down as he watched it, almost entranced.

  “It’s like touching sunshine,” he whispered.

  My heart broke right down the middle. Roman looked…sad. He let my hair fall and traced my neck.

  “You look like perfection.
Fresh. Innocent.”

  I was scared to breathe, to move. He was talking, his words churning out what his mind was thinking. I wanted to gather every syllable and clutch them close, because there was an important truth to his words. To how he saw me, responded to me.

  “The thought of anything, or anyone, damaging you, including myself—” he clenched his teeth around the last word.

  “Shh.” I cupped his jaw. “I’m right here, in your arms, and all you make me feel is wanted.”

  My words seemed to stir something in him that looked like happiness mixed with despair.

  “You keep going against my plan,” he said.

  Roman was a strong, capable man, there was no doubt about that. But the flash of vulnerability in his eyes called to me. Since the first night I’d seen him, I’d recognized the level of need, of pain, that he tried to keep hidden. And without knowing it, we’d bonded over common ground. We didn’t know what the ground was, only that it existed—in both of us.

  “Is that a bad thing?” I asked. I had pieces, but nothing was adding up.

  I took a mental tally of everything I’d learned about Roman so far. His need for control. His kindness, softness, regard for my wellbeing. He understood me and my anxiety, because he knew what it felt like, but then stayed away from me for days on end.

  It was like he was worried I would lose my innocence. Or rather, the idea of innocence he thought I radiated. Yet when we made love, it was hard, rough, consuming. What had happened to him to make him so closed off? Even when he sometimes seemed open, it was mostly a facade. There was nothing easy about understanding Roman Reese.

  “What are you so afraid of?” I asked.

  He leaned toward me, his thumb brushing across the seam of my mouth. “You.”

  He pulled my bottom lip between his two. Cupping my face with one palm, he snaked his tongue inside my mouth, and in one burst of crisp decadence, I tasted everything Roman was.

  There were so many things I wanted to tell him. That I…what? Liked him? Needed him? And there was so much I desperately wanted from him in return. Opening up the way he had, though it had been slight, brought hope of progress. But it also brought more questions. I didn’t know where to begin or how to end. I just wanted…

  “More,” I breathed against his mouth and kissed him hard. Slowing the pace, he gently pulled back, reached behind his neck, and pulled his shirt over his head. In one movement, the material was gone and Roman stood before me, shirtless, the firelight flickering on his tan skin.

  I smiled, and took my time examining him. I had seen him before, but always in some kind of clothing. Some kind of visual obstruction. But not this time, and I fully intended to take advantage of that.

  “You’re flawless,” I breathed, staring at everything from the curve of his shoulders to the taper of his waist, and the sexy way his hips formed a V that disappeared into his low-slung pants. So much hard muscle wrapped his chest and lower torso. Not an ounce of extra was on him, and when his stomach flexed on an uneasy breath, I all but drooled.

  “Scrutiny can make a man uneasy,” he said, a light note in his voice.

  I shook my head dumbly, my eyes still taking in the expanse of his body. “Not scrutiny.” I finally met his gaze. “Admiration.”

  Yet, I knew how it felt to stand before someone with all your vulnerabilities exposed. I took in his every expression, which was becoming more strained by the second. Though he was just shirtless, which wasn’t typically a big deal for a man, Roman was obviously a bit nervous. Had he never been like this with anyone before? Exposed and open to their view? Again, I wondered why. But that would have to wait, because I didn’t want him to think he was anything less than perfection.

  I pulled my shirt off, leaving me in only my panties, and hoped this would put him a bit more at ease. I closed the distance between us. Roman looked shocked, and when I launched to my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around him, his body tensed slightly.

  “You’re beautiful,” I said and hugged him closer.

  My breasts pressed against his bare chest, and the feel of his hot skin against mine was like coming home. His body relaxed and he wrapped his arms around me, his big palms splaying over my back.

  “What am I going to do with you, Amy?” he said into my ear. “Every damn time I think I’ve got a read on you,” he kissed the top of my head, “how you’re going to react, you throw me off.”

  I kissed his shoulder, then trailed little kisses to his chest over his heart. The strong beat was soothing. Gently releasing my hold, I skimmed my fingertips to his stomach and ran them down his side, feeling all that power beneath my touch.

  Never taking my mouth from his skin, I slowly slid to my knees, kissing every ridge of his stomach as I went. He tensed again, those chiseled flanks of muscle jumping beneath my tongue.

  “Amy…”

  My name in that voice sent shivers down my spine.

  I nipped his hip bone and looked up at him. Something fierce and stark simmered beneath his skin, so acutely I could almost see a glow surrounding him.

  Whatever tore at Roman’s mind on a regular basis was very much alive. I felt it. Felt his brain roil as the battle between what he wanted, needed, and what he didn’t understand played out on his face. I wanted to chase away whatever awful memories came with such an expression. Because for the first time, I truly understood: Roman was at odds with himself. And in this moment, it was my fault.

  It was time to make myself clear and alleviate the burden of thinking…for him.

  On my knees before him, I licked my lips.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” I said, looking up at him, my fingers trailing over the band of his pants.

  He cupped my face and the tic in his jaw moved. He was overthinking things again. I wanted to be something good for him. Something he enjoyed. Someone he respected.

  He looked like he was about to back away. Probably revoice his previous notion that this wasn’t as planned. I knew that being exposed this way was obviously outside of his comfort zone. But he’d pushed me beyond mine and only left me wanting more. It was time I did the same for him.

  He said my name in that way that was a half question, half plea.

  “I wasn’t asking your permission,” I said. I gripped the hem of his pants and looked up at him with my best sexy smile. “Unless you want me to stop? Get up and leave?”

  “No,” he said roughly.

  I gave a quick kiss on his bellybutton. “Good, because I’ve thought about this…” I slowly pulled down his bottoms just enough to free the tip of his hard cock. “Thought about taking you with my mouth…”

  I pulled down another inch, then another, exposing more of his hard, smooth shaft.

  “Jesus, Amy,” he growled.

  “I know you like my perceived innocence.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing perceived about it. It’s a fact.” He stroked the underside of my chin with his fingertips.

  “But the fact is, I want you.” I gave a final tug and his bottoms fell to the floor, leaving him gloriously naked. “And I want you to see all of me.”

  He stepped from his discarded clothes and I simply stared. With his jutting erection right in front of me, I realized I’d never seen a man this up close and personal before.

  Every experience before Roman had been clinical, awkward, and honestly, I’d kept my eyes closed most of the time. Not now. Not with him. From day one, he’d brought passions out in me that I hadn’t known I could feel. There was too much I wanted to experience. And I wanted him right there with me, learning from me as I did from him.

  “Wow,” I said again. Thick and long. Velvety, yet strong as steel. Keeping my gaze locked on him, I bit my lip and ran my palms up his thighs.

  “You’re torturing me,” he whispered. “Staring at me like that, licking that sweet mouth.” His cock twitched, pulsing even harder.

  I smiled up at him. “Just looking my fill.”

  Keeping my ey
es on his, I leaned in and ran my tongue along the head. He hissed, and his fingers dove into my hair. Not pushing or pulling, just tangling. I licked the underside then sucked on the crown briefly, watching his reaction.

  His chest tightened and his jaw clenched. He must’ve liked that. So I tried to go deeper.

  “Fuck, Amy,” he muttered, pushing his hips out to meet me, slowly burying himself in my mouth, inch by amazing inch. And I loved every taste, every sensation. I couldn’t take him all the way, so I wrapped my fist around the base and pumped.

  “That’s so good, sweetheart.” His fingers wove more tightly into my hair, and I loved the tremble in his strong hands, as if he was finally giving up some of that control. Even though I was the one on my knees, I felt powerful. I could give him this kind of pleasure. I could help him let go.

  I moved my mouth up and down, sheathing him over and over between my lips. Sucking hard while flicking my tongue against the head. If possible, he grew even harder, so I did that again and again until he was rocking on his feet, meeting my mouth with gentle thrusts.

  “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to make me come.”

  I worked faster, wanting to take him all the way. Show him I could handle anything he could give me.

  “Pull back,” he grated. I didn’t. Instead I bore down, taking him as deeply as I could. He didn’t fight me, just kept his hold on my head as his release overtook him. “Ah, God!”

  I took everything he gave. Drinking him down and feeling more alive, more needed, more desired, than I ever had in my life.

  He was breathing hard when I drew away. Slowly unraveling my hair from his grip, he looked down at me. Cupping my shoulders, he sank to his knees.

  “You can’t ever just do what I think you will, can you?” he said, and kissed me hard.

  “I like to keep you guessing,” I said against his mouth.

  In one quick move, he pushed me to my back, spread my knees with his hands, and drove his tongue into my core.

  “Oh, God!” My hips flew up to meet him.

  It all happened so fast I could barely keep up. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me closer, thrusting his tongue even deeper. I arched and moaned his name.